Page 20 of Shameless Royalty

“I just noticed you’ve got a big mouth for someone in your position,” he says as he smirks faintly.

“Yeah, well, what else have I got?” I shoot back. “You took my freedom, my books, and my goddamn sanity. What’s left but my mouth?”

Connor chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re not insane. Yet.”

“Not for lack of tryin’. Speaking of books—how about getting me more of those? I’ve already read everythin’ on that shelf.”

“And?” he asks, like this is a surprise.

“And I’m fuckin’ bored!” I snap, throwing my hands in the air. “Do you know what it’s like to sit in the same room for days on end with nothin’ but your thoughts? Spoiler: it’s shite.”

“Maybe you need better thoughts,” he says with a suggestive grin, but I don’t entertain it.

“Maybe you need to—” I cut myself off, taking a deep breath. “I’ve gone through every book on that shelf. Twice. I’m losin’ my fuckin’ mind in here, and if I have to readThe Joys of Container Gardeningone more time, I’m gonna throw a fuckin’ fit.”

Connor stares at me for a long moment, like he’s trying to decide whether I’m serious. Then he shakes his head, muttering under his breath. “Christ. You’re really losin’ it, aren’t ya?”

“Yesss,” I groan. “You locked me in here with nothin’ but books, and now I’ve run out. Either let me out or bring me more. Your choice.”

He snorts, crossing his arms. “You’re not getting out, so I guess it’s option two.”

“Thank the friggin’ Pope,” I mutter. “I thought I’d have to beg.”

Connor’s smirk grows, but it doesn’t have the bite it usually does. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

I roll my eyes, ignoring the heat that rises in my face. “Just bring the books, Cunningham.”

He raises a brow. “You’re awfully demandin’ for someone locked in a cage, you brat.”

“Blame yourself. You made me this way.”

Connor laughs—a low, rough sound that feels more genuine than the mocking edge he usually carries. It catches me off guard, but I cover it by picking at the toast and stuffing my mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do. But don’t think this means I like you.”

“Oh, the horror,” I deadpan. “How will I ever recover?”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a flicker of amusement in them. Or pity. Hard to tell with him. He steps toward the door, pausing with his hand on the knob.

“Anythin’ specific you want, Your Majesty?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Something interestin’,” I say with a shrug. “And readable. Preferably without a font size that requires a magnifying glass.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, opening the door. “Don’t hold your breath.”

The door shuts behind him, and I’m alone again, the sound of the lock clicking into place like a nail in my coffin. I pick at the food half-heartedly, my appetite fading as quickly as it came.

Books. That’s what I asked for, but it’s not what I want. What I want is to be free, to walk out of here and leave all this bullshite behind. But that’s not happening anytime soon, so I’ll take what I can get.

And if I can annoy Connor in the process? Well, that’s just a bonus.

Chapter 12

Malachi

Idon’tevenbothergetting up when the door opens this time. I’m lying on the bed, tossing one of the pillows into the air and catching it, trying to stave off the creeping boredom. When I glance up, the sight that greets me stops me cold and the pillow falls back on my face.

Connor walks in carrying a massive box, followed by one of his men carrying two more. The guy deposits them on the floor with a thud and leaves without a word, but Connor stays, shutting the door with his boot.

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